Then while living on Bergen Street

a couple years later, in my new life, out of the hardcore scene (was just never really that into it) and obsessed with "trance" and the KLF, I met Al, my future boyfriend, on October 4, the anniversary of Anne Sexton's suicide. I had just entered Hunter where I had little social life but then for some reason Al and I clicked. Five years later, we had a nasty breakup......and then on February 11, the anniversary of Sylvia Plath's suicide, I met my next boyfriend at a club, and it was his birthday. By then, I was in Astoria.

But four years later, I'd end up in Fort Greene which I'd never heard of and prior to around this time had been practically uninhabitable.

I can't upload these pictures otherwise I'd illustrate this but anyway.....ok I'm trying....